Rebirth
by Hidden-Monster
Summary: Although the new Coven appears promising, some bodies will not stay buried and several souls still demand vengeance.
1. Chapter 1

"This may come off as sudden," Zoe began. "But I have to get away."

Cordelia took to the news better than she expected. Her voice was urgent, but not necessarily upset in her protests. She laid out all the cons of leaving while the school was in its comeback stages. The time consuming task at hand of going through dozens of girls; some true witches, others just foolish girls who had watched The Craft one too many times. Zoe had heard similar arguments from Kyle earlier in the week, so she was well prepared with her own counterpoints.

Switching tactics, she reminded their new Supreme of all the events she had been in the mist of during her brief few weeks of belonging to the Coven. Murders, zombies, betrayals. Not to mention, surviving her own death. A fact she was still trying to come to terms with.

"And what about Kyle?" Cordelia reminded her. "Delphine's gone again. Spalding never came back at all. I know it may come off as selfish to demand, but we really need him here, Zoey."

"Kyle's not coming with me," she quickly stated.

Taken back, Cordelia meekly asked of their relationship status. Zoe took this as a good sign. Sympathy was in her favor, a broken heart was another good reason for her to get away. But at the same time, something in her conscience told her not to burn any bridges yet.

"We just need some time apart."

...

14 days prior:

...

"Remember what you told me?"

"No," her voice responded drowsily. "Just tell me where I am. I don't remember this room."

"You wouldn't. I wouldn't have dared brought you up here before."

On cue, he nodded towards the form propped up in the chair. Her reaction was typical for anyone who would recognized the tattled, frozen face that once belonged to socialite Fiona Goode. From elsewhere in the room, a baby echoed her cry.

"It's alright. I'll bury it if you'd like. But I just couldn't leave it downstairs."

His face, which she kept having to remind herself, was not one of solid flesh, seemed more aged and lined than she previously remembered. But then again, Fiona usually only looked for wrinkles among her female competition. And, the more she gazed upon the room, she realized he looked that way because she was suddenly seeing clearer than she had in ages. Not including the rare times she slipped on glasses when not in the company of others.

"Are you frightened?" He asked after several minutes of silence.

"No. I'm merely adjusting."

"So, you do know who you are, then?"

Doubt crossed her mind, which she concealed with a smile. "Suppose I didn't, would you humor me, Spalding?"

Grasping under her arms, he lifted Fiona to her feet, the way one would to a child. Slowly Spalding led her over to a small diamond shaped mirror. Visible through the modest lights in the room, a face stared back. A young face. Full and slightly bland, free of makeup and framed by a long curtain of dirty blonde hair.

"Not nearly as beautiful I know, but it seemed fitting."

"Beautiful?" she laughed. "As beautiful as that?" Fiona asked, pointing towards the bald white corpse.

"As beautiful as you remember yourself looking, and I know you do."

Fiona didn't deny any of this. Already she was visualizing how this face would look with lighter hair and proper attention. It had potential.

Meanwhile, Spalding walked away and seated himself at a table centered near a shelf lined with dolls. She could hear him pouring tea into available cups, but couldn't imagine who would be partaking in the available beverage.

"Remember what you told me?" he asked again.

"No, I don't know what you're referring to."

"You said you would avenge my death."

Fiona turned and managed to walk over to a available chair under her own power, stepping over the body of the girl's simple-minded blonde boy-toy along the way. Spalding was patience and didn't continue speaking until after he moved to fill her cup.

"And your own, which I would help you with as well, but I'm not quite sure who the guilty party is."

"That would be me, Spalding. I'm responsible-"

"No. Please don't act that way. Remorse doesn't suit you."

The sound of his voice was still something she wasn't used to. She could vaguely remember it from a lifetime ago, but somehow it became replaced by a voice more softer and docile in her mind.

"I never remember you talking this way," she told him, hoping he would take it as a compliment.

"Perhaps I've changed over the years. Most people do, I suppose."

Fiona sipped the bitter tea to be polite. "Are you going to tell me how this came about? Or do you still have to serve tea to those waiting downstairs?"

"I'm sorry, I thought you would know," he stated kindly. "It was a spell-"

"Obviously," Fiona spoke up. "To what means were you able to carry it out? You have no powers."

"The boy," he paused to point towards the second body, which lay facedown on the floor, instead of positioned like her own. "I had his trust. So when I told him that his beloved had succumb to unconsciousness as a result of a spell beyond her powers, he was all to eager to recite whatever words from a book I slipped in front of him."

She reflected over this new information in her mind, trying to make sense of it. From all appearances, Kyle likely was not a carrier of any powers, but he had been touched by death already and brought by through the influence of witches. Was that enough to give his words power to bring her back from Hell?

Spalding had other feelings on the kid, "His ignorance was bound to be used sooner or later."

"But of the spell?" Fiona requested further. "How did you know which to use?"

"I am _not_ ignorant." he maintained. "Nor without my resources or years of knowledge."

Perhaps so. After all, his spirit was still earth-born. Whether out of resistance to freely enter the hereafter or perhaps the house was as loyal to him as he'd been to it.

"No, no you're not. You've always been incredibly resourceful, Spalding."

He gleamed in light of her compliments in his favor. Still, his appearance was a pathetic sight to her. And Fiona felt further guilt for harboring these thoughts. She had only been decaying for the last months of her life, but Spalding looked worse and worse every time she laid eyes upon him. But such details were not important now. There were so many more pleasant things to think about. Her life was anew.

Another muffled cry emerged, but this time it was a male voice. Reaching over, Fiona grabbed the tea kettle and smashed it over the back of Kyle's head to silence him. Spalding jumped up as well, but only to lament about the broken pieces of porcelain.

"I _will_ make sure you get justice," Fiona stated.

"I already have. My murderer has lost her body. You're alive. I don't desire anything else."

"But what about him?" she inquired regarding the unconscious body. "He, or rather his head, broke your teapot. I think he deserves his own comeuppance.

And for the first time in over 40 years, Fiona heard Spalding laugh.


	2. Chapter 2

"How does it feel?"

"Heavy. I can feel the weight of my limbs once more.. The movement of the muscles, along with the energy it takes to lift and move each piece. But it's still easier than how it used to be in my old body. There is no pain, no aches." He smiled in reflection. "I forgot how wonderful that used to be."

"Youth is wasted on the young," Fiona summed up for him.

"And some don't deserve it anyway," he added.

However, the baby protested his new appearance. But she had been handed off between so many, Spalding was sure she would come to know and bond with him again soon enough.

Fiona kept her distance as he held the infant. Whether out of courtesy, while she smoked, or indifference, Spalding wasn't going to ask. He was just thankful she was here, in his sanctuary of the attic. That in itself made him feel like a completely difference person.

"You should really hand that over to 'Delia, you know."

"She can get her own."

"I highly doubt that. Besides, you have a new nubile body. And a house full of young girls. You can go around and make your own flock of blond curly haired cherub babies."

Spalding only responded in his old silent pandamime gesture. He had been celibate for so long, such possibilities never came to his mind.

But Fiona was already planning. Returning to the mirror, she declared, "I'm going to see the world in these new clear eyes of mine. And the world is going see me, right after I acquire a more flattering wardrobe."

He watched in silence, just as was his old habit. Her appearance was different, but the movements and mannerisms were all too familiar. Again, she was that reckless youth who caught his eye. The one who laughed, but on a few small occasions, also smiled at him.

"You will not leave immediately, will you?"

"Don't sound so lonesome. You are coming with me. They wouldn't expect otherwise, and I might have need of your help."

Her back remained facing him. Slowly Spalding put the baby down and crept behind her to view his new face above her shoulder in the mirror.

Carefully, he prepared his words.

"No, I'm sorry Fiona, I don't think I can."

Spalding meant to view her reaction, but she moved out of range of the reflective surface before he finished his sentence.

"I'm needed here," he continued. "The witches, the baby, Coredelia. They will all need looking after. Especially in the first chapter of this new reign."

She continued to back away from him, her expression was unreadable to him. But her voice was unmistakably irritated when she spoke.

"You would turn me down now, Spalding. What is your reason?"

"I know you. I know there is not a man alive who can keep you. I would not try to do so or keep you from your life out there. Mine is here."

"That will prove to be an incredibly stupid decision on your part."

"I know." he concluded sadly. "And yet my conscious and inner voice will not allow me to act in any other way. I am unfortunately a creature of habit and routine."

Fiona rolled her eyes at his statement before picking up her pack of cigarettes laying on the table. One was placed between her painted mouth which she lit with her own powers.

"And you will return, from time to time, like before, won't you?" he asked.

"And if I didn't? Being that 'Delia was desperate enough to build a replacement council with this wet behind the ears girl, I would not have much of a choice, would I?"

"So you will come back?"

Reentering his personal space, she took a long drag of her cigarette and then blew the smoke up into his face. Smiling, Fiona declared, "Oh yes, I'll be back."

Spalding knew she was lying. But was touched that she would take the effort to hide the truth from him.


	3. Chapter 3

The details of Fiona's dream were already lost when she awoke. But she knew _he_ had made an appearance. She could still feel his hands pressed firmly around the languid breasts of her old body. Fear gripped her, but also arousal as a result of whatever occurred from what had to be a nightmare of sorts.

Out of a new habit, she ran her fingers over the slender frame of the body she now claimed as her own. The hipbones protruded out from under the thin black strap of underwear she wore. Then her physique dipped where the belly button was located, just as it should. Several rib bones clearly recognizable through touch, leading to each modest breast which lay to the side while she was horizontal.

Yes, she could remember when her own form behaved this way. How the skin laid flat and tight against the muscles and bones beneath. Flush and warmth radiating from some endless source of heat within.

And the energy she felt, or rather the lack of weariness. Like a moderate coke high that never tampered off. This body rarely needed rest and her mind never shut off. Even as she shut her eyes with the intend of sleep, the thoughts returned.

A silver fox of a man, but just a man really. Taunt muscles to hold onto, hard parts to grin against. And an ego to twist and use for so many purposes. He was her last lay in that old life. But what's more, he followed her after death, did he not?

Several blinding bright rooms was where they would met. All connected through wide doorways with white paint barely covering the wood walls. She visited this place often, but could only remember this fact while she was there in the dream.

But it was too vivid to be a dream. All of her senses could recall the sordid details. The reek of fish and mildew. Taste of his fat tongue crammed into her mouth. Perspiration collecting over their bodies twisted together. Sound of her screaming as she beat her fists upon his naked back. But always he'd tell her to keep it up. In that gravelly voice of his, he'd say he enjoyed it rough and would proceed to show her just how brutal he could be.

Occasionally she would remember the metallic scent of blood being present. But in those particular dreams, a different man was in her bed. He was young with full dark hair and the blood in question was his own.

From every aperture in his face, the fresh red oozed out, while he shook as if in the middle of a seizure. And like in the other vision, she could hear screaming. However the voice was not her own. High pitched, frantic and frightened, the unseen girl called out the boy's name, Johnny.

Conflicting the terror was how in both cases, she could clearly feel each male's organ pushed deep inside her. And each time she awoke with a feeling of soreness and longing between her legs. And no way to eliminate the sensation other than attempting to reply the events in her mind and feel up the body of a teenage girl.

* * *

The liquor cabinet had been locked, as ordered by the new Supreme, who now had a houseful of thirsty young women to be responsible for. But fortunately no one else was awake at this hour. Or at least no one who cared if she pried it open.

"Don't you ever sleep?"

The fair haired boy crept inside the room after she addressed him. Standing far too upright and straight for a teenager, with hands clutched obediently in front of his body.

"Yes. But probably less than I'm suppose to."

"Forget I asked," Fiona dismissed. "I keep forgetting that you can talk now. It takes all the fun out of speaking to you, when you can actually respond to things. Why won't this..?"

"Miss Cordelia used a spell to lock it."

"What spell?"

"That, I'm not sure of. Just that several of the girls had already mentally picked the lock, as you're trying to do, before she had to resort to such measures."

Despite his claim, Fiona kept attempting to maneuver the doors, though physical and mental means, eventually ending with her screaming 'Fucking Hell!' at that cupboard.

"If you're trying to wake up our present Supreme, so that she can open it for you, you may want to move closer to the staircase to scream."

"And if you're not going to fucking help me, you can shut the fuck up, Spalding! Or I'll personally cut that new tongue out myself!"

Fiona flopped herself down on the closest available chair and ran her hands though her hair. It was too long and stringy she decided. A haircut and perm was needed, even if the latter had gone out of fashion.

Spalding lingered back, letting her cool off for a few seconds before speaking again.

"There's wine hidden in the refrigerator. It was going to be used to flavor meat, but I guess we could do without."

After she gestured in approval, he walked to the kitchen to retrieved the bottle.

"I don't understand why Delia has this place under lock and key anyway," she mused while he poured her a second glass. "Kids had been drinking here for as long as I can remember."

"Occasionally with bad consequence, as I recall."

"And who cares about a few kids getting drunk and puking into the fireplace? If there weren't messes to clean up, you'd be without a job, you know."

"Possibly. But I prefer some messes to others."

Spalding turned to depart, thinking of his other obligation upstairs in her crib,

"And why are you leaving?" she asked, not giving him time to respond before declaring in a mock girlish tone that she was afraid.

"What are you afraid of?" he asked, just incase she was being sincere.

"I'm not exactly sure," she stated to her empty glass. "Many things I suppose. This," she motioned to herself, "not lasting. Ghosts.."

Spalding repeated the last answer questionably.

"The spirits of the dead, they linger on in this place," she explained hazily. "You know that, but you were not the only one here."

He nodded, not wishing to state all that he overheard regarding her relationship with the one they called the Axeman.

"He reclaimed his flesh…he was solid, as human as we are now, but in his own body. One of the girls, they gave him that power."

"And he was killed again," Spalding mentioned, if only to let her know he was aware of just who she was referring to.

"But I think he's still out there. If not here, maybe Hell, waiting to bring me back."

"Despite the practice of descensum, I don't think I ever believed a Hell existed. It seemed more of a Christian belief adapted into our religious creed out of necessity."

"That or you remained here because it _is_ your Hell!"

"No," Spalding maintained but also added, "I can not claim to know why my own spirit did not pass onto a different plane. Perhaps it is because of my vow to this Coven, and since I left no descendant to take my place."

"Also not exactly true.." Fiona alluded, while the wine was beginning to take its affect. Broaching a subject that neither of them would ever truly acknowledge completely.

Returning to the topic at hand, Spalding directly asked, "Do you fear this man? Do you need protection?"

"No, I do not fear him," she insisted, a half-truth. "I just want him out of my head. Along with these thoughts, memories that are not my own, that come to me like a goddamn déjà vu head trip!" …is there no reefer in this house? It's used for spells after all. Delia should keep at least a small supply on reserve."

Reaching the end of his usefulness, Spalding decided to formally take his leave for the night.

"I need to go and check on the baby. ..You can come along if you'd like."

"Thanks, but I can get along without the company of you and the pass-around-orphan."

Fiona waited until she was sure Spalding was gone, sneaky lurker as he was, before returning to her first destination, the liquor cabinet. Free of any spectators, she was sure she could overpower any spell preformed by her daughter.


	4. Chapter 4

Several of the new girls, who had only known Zoey very briefly, gathered out front to wave goodbye. But only Coredelia and Queenie had the privilege of hugging her before she was to take her leave. Kyle loaded up her luggage into the cab and exchanged one spoken line to her, out of the ear range of the students, just before she stepped into the vehicle.

However the driver who heard it thought it was tragic and sweet just the same. Obviously the tux-clad domestic was in love with the young girl who was about to depart. Maybe he thought confessing those feeling would make her stay, but this girl was high class. Out of league of working class fellas like themselves. Which is why the jeweled-clad dame did not respond back.

But they drove to the airport without incident or tears. And she tipped him well, where he noticed she used the same perfume favored by his wife. White Diamonds, by Elizabeth Taylor, he'd recognize it anywhere.

* * *

Cordelia waited two full hours after Zoey had left, so that he would not be suspicious. She also needed to catch him alone, so she choose the time when most of the girls had gone grocery shopping with Queenie to make her move.

"What are you doing?!" he screamed, once her arms latched around him, pressing her fingers against his bare neck. As far as he knew, she could be anyone of the students, since more than a few had already demonstrated teleportation abilities. This was also planned so that she could leave undetected if her suspicions were proven false.

"Where is my mother's body?" was her first question after letting him go.

He stammered about in response, trying to walk away but Cordelia blocked his path with her outstretched arms.

"Please don't treat me like I'm dumb. Fiona must have told you what I'm capable of seeing."

"Fiona is dead."

"Yes, and her body is still missing. I know you had something to do with it, Spalding. You've probably been planning with her for weeks after you disappeared. But now she's gone, so just tell me where it is."

He paused, still attempting to look for an way to escape, but despite her smaller size, she had him cornered. Even if he managed to push her to the side, she could use her powers against him.

"You don't want Fiona's body to bury her, you want to use it to drive her out of that girl."

"Who's to say I can't do it without her original body? And that I couldn't do the same to you?" she presented as a threat. "Taking possession of an innocent girl. She just couldn't die without bringing another down, could she?"

"Let her be. She deserves happiness."

"And Zoey Benson doesn't?"

"No," Spalding snapped in response. "She is a murderer. You think I disappeared? I was held prisoner in my room, tortured and then tied to my bed. It was there that she killed me."

Cordelia searched his face for a trace of deceit.

"And why would she do that, Spalding?" she accused.

"Why, you ask… How long have you known me? How long have I served this Coven? You don't know, because it was before you were born. Before it allowed ungrateful witches within its walls. Ones that would murder those who were sworn to protect them!"

"And what about Fiona?" she brought up. "How much blood does she have on her hands? How much of that blood do you share?"

"You don't know what you're talking about.."

"No, I do, actually. Even before I gained my second sight, I knew of her secrets. From Myrtle, from those who grew up with my mother. From things my mother would openly state while intoxicated."

"Things like what? What has she told you?"

She allowed her arms to fall to her side and backed away from him, no longer feeling a need to keep up her defenses.

"My mother is not perfect. In the past, I tried to overlook the awful things she did," Cordelia detailed, taking a seat at the kitchen table. "But then she started directly involving me and the students."

She looked up in his direction, trying to see if any of her words were getting through. Never before had she been able to have an actual conversation with Spalding, but in the years he's worked at the school, it always appeared that he was devoted to it.

"She uses people," Cordelia elaborated. "That's what she's good at. You've known of her long enough, you should know that better than anyone."

"A child should not speak such a way about their parent."

"Maybe it's just as well you couldn't speak before," she concluded. "Talking to you is like talking in circles."

The insult hit him sentimentally, as it seemed like something Fiona would say. He smiled bitterly.

"Just know this. Fiona's body is buried. As is mine. You don't have to concern yourself with the matter. Fiona does not carry the burden of the Supremacy anymore. She only wants to enjoy life. And I only want to serve the Coven."

"You think I would let you stay here after what you two did?"

"I am not a threat to those under this roof. And besides you have power over me as a witch and the Supreme."

"That is not a good defense."

"Well, who else do you have employed to take my place then?"


End file.
